


Mr. Sandman, Bring Me A Dream

by AnonymouslyDead



Category: Gotham - Fandom
Genre: Barbara has Freddy Krueger powers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:09:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymouslyDead/pseuds/AnonymouslyDead
Summary: Barbara likes to bug Lee in her dreams





	Mr. Sandman, Bring Me A Dream

When Lee realized she was standing in the no longer existing Sirens bar, she knew she must be dreaming. Then, a certain longe gone blonde appeared along with it, and Lee realized this was a goddamn nightmare.

Lee charged at the large mahogany doors. They didn’t budge no matter how much she beat against them. Of course. 

“That’s not gonna work.” Barbara chimed in. She lazily swished around the flute of champagne in her hand before downing the liquid. She looked up at Lee. “You really need to relax hun.” She snapped her fingers, and another flute appeared in her hand, filled with sparking champagne. She moved closer to offer it, but Lee stiffened. 

“You’re not real. You’re dead. This is a dream.” Lee asserted, trying to project the tough girl persona she developed while working in the Narrows. Barbara only scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

“If I’m not real, then, what’s the harm in taking a drink?” Barbara said, offering the glass. “Seems like you could use one with all the nasty business you got yourself into.” 

Lee opened her to protest, but shit. Barbara had a point. So, she shrugged, took the glass, and downed its contents. She grimaced at the bitter taste. 

“Yeah, the stuff’s shit here. Too bad you can’t just-“ Barbara held up her glass. It was wider now and filled with a darker burgundy liquid. “Oh yeah, I can.”

Lee looked down at her own glass and wished she had magic booze. Apparently, wishes do come true, because empty flute was replaced by a wine glass similar to Barbara’s. 

Barbara tipped her glass at Lee. “Your dream. Your rules.” 

“My dream. My rules.” Lee sipped at her wine, mulling over her options. What would she want from a dream? 

She closed her eyes and willed away the forgotten bar. She didn’t open her eyes until warmth washed over her.

Lee opened her eyes, revealing what looked like an ad for a ski lodge. A nice comfy couch rested before a roaring fireplace, casting the dark wooden walls in yellow light.

Lee plopped onto the couch, sinking in the unbelievable soft cushions. She let out a groan as she relaxed. It was like the last couple of months melted from her mind. 

“My Lee. Coming on a bit strong.” The cushions shifted with new weight, disrupting Lee’s peace. Lee didn’t even need to look to know the irritatingly cocky smile that graced Barbara’s lips. “All there’s missing is the bear skin rug.”

Lee frowned. “Why exactly are you still here?” 

“I guess I’m your dream girl.” Barbara hide her smile behind her glass. 

Lee wasn’t amused. Barbara seemed to catch that and scoffed. “Oh, come on. Could be worse. I could Jim.” 

Lee chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re not wrong.” 

They clinked glasses and drank. After that, they sat in comfortable silence, or as comfortable as it can be with the dream ghost of your attempted murderer sitting next to you. 

After a while, Barbara sat her glass down, frowning. “Better run, hun. Lots of business to take care of. Not to mention, you’ll be waking up soon enough.” 

By that point, Lee had drank a lot of dream wine and had in her mind to ask what ghosts did. Instead, Lee just waved clumsily as Barbara disappeared along with everything else. 

********************** 

Lee woke up to angry sunlight. The light caused the pulsing in her head to ramp up its painful fit. 

Lee sat up in her creaking bed and regretted it. She clutched her head, praying for the pain to stop. 

Shit, she hadn’t been this hungover since college, and she didn’t even drink anything.

Lee frowned, thinking of a solution. There was the problem, however, that she was not a neurologist, not to mention the fact that her brain felt like it was imploding. 

Whatever, a solution can wait until she could think straight. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated 
> 
> I tried this is a silly idea I got stimmimg from an idea of writing horror movie themed Gotham fics lol


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